


Eros

by yeaka



Series: Yutopian Zoo [13]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, Ficlet, Intoxication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Yuuri gets into the eggnog.





	Eros

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in the same partial-animal AU as some of my other ficlets, but it’s stand-alone and you don’t need to read them for this. (Long story short, human!Victor bought serow!Yuuri from the zoo.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It isn’t all that unusual to wake up alone, although Victor much prefers the days when he finds Yuuri snuggled up against his side. More often than not, Yuuri stays above the blankets, curled up with his knees against his chest and his face so close to Victor’s that he can taste Yuuri’s dew-slicked breath. When that happens, Victor usually pets Yuuri awake and helps Yuuri pick out something to wear.

Today, his bed is empty, which means Yuuri’s probably already up the mountains, frolicking about in all the thickly layered snow. Sometimes Victor can even see it from the loft’s tall window: the little speck that is his serow leaping in and out of fluffy clouds. It always makes his heart swell. For all the gold medals Victor’s won, all the titles and records, none of it’s ever been as precious to him as his Yuuri is now. 

As Victor changes into a new sweater and jeans, he does peer out the window, but Yuuri’s nowhere to be found. That isn’t alarming—they’re out in the middle of nowhere, with plenty of wilderness in which Yuuri can play, and he might even be downstairs already, poking at all of Victor’s human gadgets. Victor keeps an eye out as he wanders down the staircase, but the living space is empty, as is the dining nook.

The kitchen area is mostly spotless, save for one white spill on the hardwood floor, a carton of overturned eggnog lying in it. 

Victor rushes straight to that. He picks the carton up, relieved to find it still fairly heavy, but there’s only one way it could have gotten there with the fridge shut as it is. He’s already fishing his phone out of his pocket, tapping the quick-dial number for the zoo as he searches the rest of his small house. He’s relieved when Phichit answers, and before the serow-handler can get out a word, Victor’s rushing, “Yuuri got into the eggnog—is alcohol poisonous to them?”

 _“To a hybrid?”_ Phichit asks, and thankfully he doesn’t sound too distressed—Victor knows he’d be frantic if he thought Yuuri was in danger. _“It’s not good for them, of course, but it shouldn’t be too bad. How much did he drink?”_

“It can’t have been more than a glass...”

_“Okay, don’t panic. Just give him plenty of water and have him rest it off, and he should be alright. A patron here did give him beer once, and he... well, I’m sure you’ll manage.”_

In the middle of ripping open the shower curtain to check that Yuuri’s not curled up in the tub, Victor freezes. “He what?”

_“It’s nothing. No worse than a rut, anyway. Look, I don’t want to embarrass him. He’ll be okay. Just... y’know. Look out for him.”_

Victor gets the distinct impression Phichit’s not telling him something, but the important thing is that he didn’t totally fuck everything up by getting too festive on his last store run. He tells Phichit, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs the phone up, because he needs both hands to concentrate on his search.

He’s out the front door next, cupping both palms around his mouth and shouting, “YUURI!”

“Vic-tooor...” someone calls behind him, and there’s no way to describe the slur to his name but _drunken_. He should’ve known even eggnog would be too potent for someone used to eating only leaves.

Following the voice back into the house, Victor re-checks the second bedroom, this time rushing for the half-open closet—he should’ve noticed that earlier. Sure enough, when he’s standing on the other side, he finds Yuuri sprawled up against the closet door, dressed in...

Victor’s old costume. His breath hitches. He stares down at Yuuri, _his Yuuri_ , sucked into the skin-tight black mesh of Victor’s past. The dark pants leave nothing to the imagination, and the flimsy half-skirt that juts out at his hip is brushed away from his crotch, revealing a distinctive bulge. The semi-transparent parts are stretched taut against Yuuri’s lithe chest, the white faux-crystal dressing accentuating him in all the perfect places. With a warm flush to his cheeks and pupils thickly dilated, glasses gone, hair shoved back as though it’s been finger-combed into place, Yuuri looks like a completely different person.

He looks delectable in a whole new way. He smiles up at Victor, then moves forward on all fours, and it lets Victor see the back of the costume—completely unzipped, right to the hump of his ripe cheeks, his fuzzy little tail flicked up just above them. Of course he couldn’t have it on all the way, not with his tail. His smooth back and slender shoulder blades are all on display. He pads right over to Victor’s legs and rubs his face against the nearest one, cooing a low montage of broken Japanese and throaty attempts at Victor’s name. 

It takes way too long for Victor to gather himself enough to duck down to Yuuri’s level. Yuuri doesn’t look in any condition to walk straight, and that leaves only one option. Victor scoops Yuuri forward and up into his arm, pleased when Yuuri lets him. But Yuuri’s always been a gentle creature—Victor understands why Phichit prefers the serows. Even when Yuuri’s drunk, Victor can handle him.

As Victor hikes Yuuri up, he gives the second bedroom a once over—it isn’t _too_ small, but the bed doesn’t have any blankets or pillows on it, and besides, Yuuri would probably prefer _his territory_. He already marked Victor’s bed—Victor can smell it on the bedposts—so he tells Yuuri, “I’m going to take you up to the loft.”

“Okay, take me to your nest,” Yuuri giggles, nuzzling into Victor’s chest as Victor starts to move. “Can you teach me there?”

“Teach you?”

For a moment, Yuuri makes a deep humming noise. They pass through the kitchen and dining space, while Yuuri sighs, “Teach me to make love like humans do—that’s what they call it, don’t then? Make love to me, Victor. _Coach me, Victor!_ Coach me on making love...”

With one foot on the stairs, Victor falters. He has to suck in a deep breath and adjust his grip before he goes again. Yuuri’s heavy, though nothing he can’t take—his training’s kept him fit. It’s more the strain Yuuri puts on his mind—and groin—than anything. He doesn’t know if Yuuri _really_ knows what the term ‘making love’ means, but he knows he’d love to enlighten Yuuri.

A sober Yuuri, that is. The option’s out the window right now, as fun as Yuuri sounds. Yuuri nuzzles into him as they reach the loft, rubbing his cheeks against Victor’s and brushing his short horns through Victor’s hair. When Victor takes Yuuri to the large bed, Yuuri obediently scrambles forward, back onto all fours, then puts his face against the pillow and lifts his hips. Waving his cute butt back and forth, tail perfectly flicked and fabric just _barely_ covering both round globes, Yuuri begs, “Coach me, Victor, please!”

It takes everything Victor has not to rip his clothes right off and eagerly agree. Yuuri just wriggles his rear harder, and the costume starts slinking down. It’s tight enough that the descent is tantalizing slow. Victor forces his eyes to the ceiling as he tells Yuuri firmly, “We will talk about this tomorrow. For now, I need you to stay put, okay?”

“I’ll never leave your nest,” Yuuri promises. Yet as soon as Victor turns to leave—mainly to go get some water for both his drunken serow and his own parched throat, Yuuri whines, “Where are you going?”

“I have to get you some things, Yuuri. You’re sick right now...”

“But I feel great,” Yuuri protests, pouting adorably over his shoulder. By now the costume is completely scrunched below his cheeks, stretched across his thighs and showing off the best ass Victor’s ever seen. He realizes too late that he’s started looking again. Yuuri shakes it more and starts to writhe in place, letting his legs spread just a little bit, enough that Victor gets a peak at his puckered entrance, pink and tiny. Yuuri thrusts back towards Victor, moaning, “Except these clothes—they’re so _hot_. Why do you humans wear clothes anyway? I liked these because they smell like you, but so does your bed— _mmm_ , Victor...” By the end of the ramble, Yuuri’s trying to get the costume farther off, and Victor lurches forward, hurriedly drawing it up Yuuri’s exposed ass, even though covering up that masterpiece should be a crime.

Yuuri whines like Victor’s mortally wounded him, and Victor realizes that leaving Yuuri isn’t gong to be easy. He figures even drunk, a serow should be able to manage stairs just fine, but he doesn’t want to take the chance. He leans over Yuuri, and Yuuri obediently stills, his fevered whimpers quickly becoming pleasured purrs. Draped over Yuuri’s heated body, Victor murmurs in his ear, “I need you to be good for me, Yuuri. Can you do that?”

Yuuri nods quickly—evidently, he can be taught some human things. When Victor whispers, “Good boy,” Yuuri shivers and smiles rapturously. It’s all Victor can do not to dive right into him. 

Then he tries to rub his rear against Victor’s crotch, and Victor pulls back just enough to keep his sanity, ordering: “You need to be still, Yuuri. I won’t coach you today, but I will tomorrow, if you stay in bed and rest for me. I have to go—” Yuuri whines, but Victor rolls on, “I’m going to fetch you water and some of your favourite leaves, and you need to stay here and sleep it off. You can take off the clothes if you like, but do it under the blankets so you won’t get too cold or tempt me too much. Can you do that for me, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s eyes are unfocused. He looks torn, but he finally promises, “Yes, Victor.” And Victor kisses his forehead for a reward. It makes Yuuri smile dizzily. This time, when Victor pulls away, Yuuri just burrows under the blankets. Victor watches for a moment to make sure he’ll stay, then wanders off to make sure he gets everything he needs.


End file.
